


It's Just A Bit of Fun

by AJuicyContradiction



Series: Fine [2]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock BBC
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJuicyContradiction/pseuds/AJuicyContradiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On occasion, parents do actually know what they're talking about. Hamish ignores John, lies to Sherlock, and suffers the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's just a bit of fun

“Dad, it’s just a concert, you wanted me to be normal didn’t you?”

John ran a hand through greying hair as his son continued to petition for this late night trip with his friends. “Hamish I’m really not comfortable with you running around London so late.”

“I’ll be with my friends though,” He pressed, “You’ve met James and Ben-“

“Especially with James and Ben,” John laughed, “really Hal it doesn’t have to be us but I would very much prefer if there was some sort of adult there.”

Hamish rolled his eyes, “Don’t you trust me Dad? I make top marks, all I do is study, what do you think I’ll be getting up to? I just want to have a bit of fun.”

“It’s not you Hal it’s-“

“Everybody else, yeah Dad, come on that’s not a real reason.” John’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Sherlock, I have to cover for Tom at the clinic, talk to your son.” He ruffled Hamish’s hair and gave the detective, still bent over a microscope at the kitchen table, a kiss on the cheek before grabbing his jacket and heading down the stairs, Sherlock can deal with the argumentative teenager for once.

“Well Father?” Hamish asked.

“Listen to Dad,” Sherlock said evenly, clearly only half paying attention.

Hamish walked up to the table where his father was working, well it can’t hurt to try, he thought, “Dad said that I could go to the concert, but he won’t push my curfew back to 3am.” This did catch his father’s attention.

“No, that’s much too late,” Sherlock said, continuing to take notes on whatever he had beneath his scope, Hamish held his breath,“ be home by 1 and text me when you arrive at the concert hall and when you’re in the cab back.”

“Father-“ I can’t believe this is working, he thought

“No buts or you can stay home.”

“Fine,” Hamish conceded, struggling to keep his breathing even as his heart thrummed in his chest, if his father was paying any attention he’d surely have noticed, “can I have money for the cab?”

Sherlock pointed haphazardly at his suit jacket, “Front pocket,” he said, “keep with the group, come home sober, do not forget to text me. I think those terms are reasonable, are they not?”

“They are,” Hamish smiled, “thanks Father, love you, bye, “he called back as he bounded down the stairs. As long as he was back before Dad, he probably wouldn’t be killed.

 

The concert was absolutely fantastic, as expected. He sent his father a text as he and his friends pushed their way through the crowds emerging onto the already busy streets of London.

“How great was that Hal? I told you it would be worth it,” Victoria hooked her arm through his, he noticed Sarah and Emily doing the same to James and Ben.

“You were right, as per usual,” he laughed, quickly checking his phone for the time, 12:06. “I’ve got to head out though, how are you getting back?”

Victoria pulled back, “Sarah, Em, and I are gonna walk back to Sarah’s flat, we’re spending the night there, what about you?”

He only had enough left for one cab ride, but his Dad would kill him if he let the girls walk home by themselves, or if he found out that Hamish had gone to the concert by lying to Father, but that was an entirely different matter.

“Let me get you a cab,” Hamish said, waving off Victoria’s protests and standing by with his friends as the girls hailed a cab.

“You should come home with me and Ben,” Jason offered, “I’ve got the new black ops and my parents are out, we’ll have the flat to ourselves.”

“No, I’ve got to head back,” Hamish said, “I’m only out because Dad had clinic duty and Father’s working a case, I’d rather not push my luck,” he laughed.

The other two boys hailed themselves a cab and Hamish turned his coat collar up against the chilled London air as he headed back to Baker Street.

 

Considering his parents unique career, he always thought that kidnapping was a possibility. Possibly assassins or some kind of extravagantly orchestrated incident in order to get to his Father. He never thought that the end would come with a swipe of a rusted blade in a quivering drug addict’s hand.

“Come on mate,” He choked, leaning heavily now against the brick side of the alley, “I haven’t got any money, you’re not even in the right part of town for that.”


	2. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if anyone wants an extra chapter with John and Sherlock arguing/talking about what happened. I'll do it if I get enough requests

Sherlock’s phone buzzed on the table, the detective jumped at the sudden noise, banging his head against the underside of the cabinets where he was working.

“Oh, for god’s sake, hello?”

“Sherlock Bloody Holmes, would you mind telling me why our son is in the A&E with a bloody fucking stab wound,” Sherlock held the phone away from his ear, but his husband’s voice still rang clearly through their small kitchen.

“John,” Sherlock began, “you need to calm down, what happened?” He pulled his coat on and was running down the stairs, taking two at a time, when John finally replied, he was hailing a cab.

“I told Hamish that he couldn’t go to that concert, but he did and he got attacked on the way home. I know he’s 15, Sherlock, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to watch him.”

A thousand different things and emotional responses ran through his mind, a mugger stabbing his son- rage, his son injured-panic, John upset-more panic, but less worry, he wouldn’t be yelling if Hamish’s injuries were life threatening.

“He said you’d given him permission to go.”

“You were right fucking there, how did you not hear me?”

“I was working, John.”

“Just get to the hospital.”

Sherlock Holmes swept into A&E to find John sitting at the foot of their son’s bed, the fourth in a long row of patients with various ailments, influenza, appendicitis, broken clavicle, he remarked silently as he passed each cot. Hamish looked no worse for wear, perhaps a bit pale, from the pain most likely, Sherlock deduced, eyes falling to the heavy patch of gauze plastered to his son’s side.

“Rough night then?” He asked as he pulled a chair up on the other side of the bed.

“Bit,” the boy gave a strained laugh.

They sat in silence for several moments, the tension palpable.

“John-“

“Not a word out of you,” he snapped, “you just sit there quietly, I’m going to go sign him out. We will talk about this when we get home.”  
Sherlock nodded and turned back to his son.

“Twelve stitches and a shot for Tetanus, could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” Hamish sighed, “I’m sorry I got you in trouble with Dad,” he cringed.

“No, I should have been paying attention,” Sherlock protested.

“Father-“

“Hamish, you lied to me, that is your wrong. I believe I’m in trouble with Dad because I failed either of you the attention you deserve. I got caught up in the case and I apologize.”

“Father really-“

“Though next time you really shouldn’t disobey Dad he’s usually right.”

“Usually?”

“He’s always right,” Sherlock corrected, “don’t tell him I said that.”


End file.
